


The Dead King’s True Lament

by caalypso



Series: Mother of Plegia [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Angst, Depression, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Rarepair, Romance, love me some rarepair, no robin and chrom aren’t married i know i made it seem like it oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-24 23:25:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16185383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caalypso/pseuds/caalypso
Summary: Gangrel finds unlikely company in Robin after being wounded.





	The Dead King’s True Lament

**Author's Note:**

> This is sort of a prelude to my incoming Gangrel/Robin postwar fiction where they return to rule Plegia and all is not well. Yay!

Gangrel’s tent was dark and quiet, the only sounds being the crickets chirping sweetly outside. He himself was tucked neatly in his cot, under a thin woolen blanket. It was almost comfortable, if only his damned chest would stop  _aching._

Suddenly, the flap of Gangrel’s tent was peeled back and he started violently. A figure paused in the entranceway before ducking silently inside, her familiar pale hair left loose over her shoulders. The former king found himself entranced by the way it glittered before he caught himself, and, frowning, watched as Ylisse’s tactician stepped towards his prone figure. 

“I know you’re awake, Gangrel.” Robin’s voice was soft and understanding, but it only made his chest feel tighter. “How are you?” 

Baring his teeth in a mocking grin, the disgraced man avoided the question entirely. “Does your little princeling know you’re here?”

Gangrel didn’t expect her to answer either, and she didn’t dissapoint. Instead, rather boldly, Robin peeled back his blanket and stared at the bandages circling his chest, barely visible under the fresh white tunic he wore. The redheaded man winced at the sudden cool air and the tactician immediately let the wool fall again. 

“I brought you dinner, if you shall have it.” Robin said suddenly, and Gangrel noticed she’d been holding a bowl of stew and hardtack in her other hand. He cursed himself for being so unobservant again, but nonetheless forced himself into a sitting position and accepted his supper. Pain shot through him like a bolt of Thoron, and the soup burned his throat as he hungrily ate, but Gangrel welcomed the feeling. In fact, he craved it.

“Why did you do such a foolish thing?” Robin suddenly exploded. The scalding broth sloshed over the edge of the wooden bowl and onto Gangrel’s fingers as he started a second time, his already sallow skin blanching further. 

“I’m afraid you’ll have to elaborate.” He spoke quietly after steadying his meal. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.”

“You know damn well what I mean.” Robin replied, lowering her voice again. However, her tone still burned Gangrel worse than the stew. “Running off and fighting an entire wyvern brigade by yourself?”

Gangrel’s face drained of emotion, his spoon clutched in a trembling fist. “You sent me back-“

”To  _scout!_ ” The tactician hissed back. “Your orders were to report back, not to face them single-handedly!”

The edge of the former king’s mouth curved upwards, but there was no smile on his face. Only jaded pain. “So I was ambushed. Good thing Ylisse’s hero tactician came to save the dog! Another impressive feat under your little belt, yes? Robin; winner of battles and savior of maggots!” His voice broke at the end, rising in shrill despiration for only a moment, but it was not lost on the fair-haired woman sitting at the foot of his cot. Biting her lip harshly to quell her anger, Robin paused.

“Gangrel, we both know you weren't ambushed.” Her even breaths were a stark contrast to Gangrel’s increasingly erratic hiccups. “What in Naga’s name were you  _thinking?_ ”

Hazel eyes met maroon, and for a moment, time stood still. Gangrel opened his mouth, sucked in a gasp of air, and stubbornly turned away. 

“You should’ve let me die.” His tone was hollow and cold, lacerated by what Robin imagined was the pain of twisting his torso. ”You should have let me  _die._ ”

Silence descended upon Gangrel’s tent again. Trying to control his shaky breathing, he strained to hear Robin’s movements. Surely she’d leave now- he hoped she’d leave now. There were tears in his eyes and he certainly didn’t want her to see  _those_.

But when she stood, it was not to leave. Gangrel’s pounding heart nearly stopped as Robin embraced him from behind, her hands resting on his chest instead of his injured torso. Her palms flattened against him, fingers fluttering like birds’ wings, and he felt his spine stiffen sharply. 

“Robin, what are you-” Gangrel licked his lips nervously, his hands shaking violently again. “Stop.  _Stop_.” 

Robin didn’t move, and the redheaded madman found himself getting panicky again. 

“You damnable tactician, don’t throw everything away for m-me.” Gangrel pleaded, his voice rising octaves until it was almost whiny. Still, Robin said nothing, instead pressing her cheek between his shoulder blades. Somehow, Gangrel’s hands shook harder, a single tear escaping his cracking façade.

“R-Robin.” He had tried to sound stern, but her name was whispered like a prayer on his lips. Her silence was all too much, and suddenly Gangrel crumpled against the warm weight on his back. Tears streaked freely down his ashen face now, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs as Robin clutched him in her arms. One hummingbird hand left his chest to brush the endless tears from his cheek, and suddenly, she was in front of him. 

”Gods, I’m  _sorry._ Is that what you wanted to hear, temptress? That this monster is sorry?” A wretched noise escaped Gangrel’s lips, ripped from him as easily as if tearing a page. “I wanted Plegia to prosper after that brat’s father razed us to nothing. I wanted to unite the people, but I only tore them apart. I was consumed by my rage, my anger- and I was left blind by the Fire Emblem. I was handpicked to die by the Grimleal’s damn hierophant-turned-King, and yet here I am. Is the only reason you don’t kill me is to avoid doing Validar a favor? I deserve my fate, so why the hell won’t it come?” 

Breathless and sudddnly exhausted, Gangrel hung his head, an embarrassed flush blooming on his pale face. But Robin only cupped his cheeks, tilting his head back to her with a gentle look. Childishly, the former king swiped his sleeve under his eyes, trying desperately to wipe his tears away. When he finally met Robin’s gaze, he was shocked to see her own cheeks streaked with tears. 

”We’re not going to kill you, Gangrel, nor are we just going to let you die.” The sheer determination in the pale-haired woman’s voice almost made him believe her. “Everyone deserves a second chance, and you are no exception.”

Gangrel found himself leaning into Robin’s feather touches, every bone in his body aching for him to hold her. His chest was forgotten. 

“From now on, you won’t be fighting alone anymore, I can promise you that.” Robin continued. “Don’t you  _ever_ do something like that again, do you understand? That is an order.”

”Damn you, tactician.” Gangrel found himself repeating, suddenly shrinking away from her. “I told you all those years ago- every man lives and dies alone. But... you Shepards must not be men, then.” He chuckled weakly. 

“Then you see yourself as a man?” Robin asked quietly, but it seemed Gangrel’s old, flamboyant self-hatred was back. 

“Pah! Man, maggot, monster- they’re all the same.” He spat. “Unworthy and broken; swayed at the slightest taste of power.” He tried to turn from her again, but his wound could no longer be ignored. Groaning in pain, the redheaded man fell back against his pillows, his gaze turned away from Robin. “Damn it all... it’s getting late, and you should go.”

”I’m not leaving until you realize you’re wrong.” The tactican replied stubbornly. Gangrel let out a harsh bark of a laugh. 

“You’ll be here forever then, fool. I’m a man by looks, maggot by nature and monster by actions.” But even as he said this, Robin was climbing under the blanket alongside him, her head pillowed in his cot. Gangrel nearly felt his heart jump up his throat as she closed her eyes, smiling faintly. 

“Then I’ll stay.” Was all she said. Frankly, that was enough. 

Gangrel wasn’t sure exactly when he fell asleep, but when he woke from a fitful rest in the wee hours of morning, Robin’s arms were around him again. Choking back more waterworks, Gangrel turned his gaze to his single possession- a leather pouch currently resting on a barrel at the other end of the tent. Inside was the last memory of his mother, preserved in a simple golden band. 

Beside him, Robin was motionless. His tent was quiet and dark, he was warm, and he was the safest he’d felt in a long time. Watching the fair-haired tactician sleep beside him, Gangrel felt his own eyelids grow heavy again, and the world melted away. 

Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all...

 


End file.
